Ask Eat Like a Man: The Benefits of Better Butters

Josh Ozersky is a James Beard Award-winning food writer, B-list food personality, and noted polymath and deviant. The founder of Meatopia, he will answer all your questions on meat, food, food writing, relationships, restaurants, or cooking. He is also available for private tutorials.

How wrong you are, Jeff. The buttered flavor, or better still "golden flavor," oil is superior to butter in every way, at least when it comes to popcorn. You need to embrace your identity as an American and find a way to love palm oil. It's one of our special flavors, as part of the American terroir as olive oil in Liguria, or duck fat in Gascony. My own favorite variation is a food-service product called Lo-Melt, which annoints the hash browns at Waffle House.

I have to go with Fernand Point, Chris. The great chef had as his motto, "Butter! Give me butter! Always butter!" Who am I to disagree? That said, a bacon sandwich on a toasted, buttered bialy might be the best hangover cure yet created.

That is a hard one. I hate to say it, but I have to kill barbecue or bacon, since neither can sustain a man over the long haul. Bacon is an irreplaceable thrill, an illicit pleasure whose loss would unman me. So kill BBQ, F bacon, and marry steak. This was a hard one. But I enjoyed it! I think we need to do an all-KFM edition soon.

Yes, you are overcooking your turkey. No properly cooked meat crumbles. Brine the hell out of it and cook it very low and very slow, and you won't have this problem. Also, don't every cook anything sous vide for any reason.

Never mind that. I will tell you why you are having this problem. You are using too high a heat. It's all happening too fast, like a man fighting bees, and in your haste you have lost your rhythm and are pulling the chop without really having a sense of how it's doing. Also, you don't know how to tell doneness by touch, which means you are emotionally unconnected to your meat. No good cook should ever be surprised by how done their meat is. But until you acquire this critical ability, and grasp the zen of meat, here's a pork chop tip you need to know: It's very hard to brown pork chops, especially thin ones with bones, which have a tendency to swerve and buckle against the pan. Even in the case of a thick center chop, it's almost impossible to get both sides as brown as you want without overcooking them. So get a pan wicked hot, drop the chop, and let it brown unmolested until the top is warm to the touch. If it's thin, you need to put a weight on top of it or just give up and deep-fry it, which is better anyway. Once you flip the chop, pop the pan into the oven for six to eight minutes at 300 degrees. Let it sit a minute and then eat it. It will be fine. And to answer your last question, I only cook pork chops via high heat and then low heat, whether in pan or grill. I never broil them, or roast them, or bake them, or anything like that. Chops need to be stunned into submission, and then finished off someplace warm.

It is always acceptable to order a half sandwich, Andy. That's a non-issue. You can even get just soup if you want to. Who cares? As for the beef rib question, a better one, I have no idea. Beef short ribs are approximately 800 times better, as a barbecue product, than brisket. They are more expensive, though. So that may be it. Even the most high-minded of barbecuers will be beaten down by cheap bastards that want everything to cost $5.

I read yourvegetable article, which was total bullshit, by the way. But if you actually did ever eat a vegetable, how would you make it? Confited in beef fat? Deep-fried?

Mark Gilson, Las Cruces, NM

Roast anything long enough with butter and garlic and it will be good, Remo. And you won't have to look at it or handle it until it has become acceptably brown and greasy. Roasting is the solution for vegetable haters. Not that I am one.

For a long time, John, I would have said the taco-flavored Go-Go Taquito at 7-11, which is dense, sapid, rich, and spicy, with the rich umami flavor of MSG in its every morsel. But now I am leaning toward the beef mini-tacos, 5 for $1 — if they are fresh. I like the Big Az hamburger too, but I would never admit it to anyone.

First of all, you shouldn't be bragging about your Global knife. They're not bad knives, and they look cool, but they are overpriced for what they are, which is nothing special. Boasting about one is like rolling up in a Toyota Avalon. But now that I have been snotty about your knife, I will say that it is more than good enough for what you need to do. Which is this:

Start by cutting the whole roast off the bones. Put those back in a hot oven and let them get all brown and crunchy. Now cut the cap off the roast. Call it a lip, call it a deckle, call it a spinalis dorsi — anyway you cut it, it's the best thing in the whole beef carcass. And guess what? You need no skill at all to take it off. In fact, you don't even need a knife. The only thing holding it on is a pocket of hat fat. You can take it off with a ballpoint pen. Once it's off, cut it into thick chunks. These tit-bits will make everybody ignore the essential blandness of the eye, which you will further camouflage by slicing it very thin, and immersing in a hot, bloody butter sauce, slice by slice by slice. It will still look gross, but it will taste good. Once the bones have browned, give everybody one with their meat, so they will have something to gnaw on. Prime rib only works when there is an element of drama involved. It's pretty gnarly-looking otherwise, and never very good. I'll take rib steaks every day. But then, I don't have any friends, so I never have to cook for a group.

Why do people keep asking me if I am against things that are so obviously good? Why would I decry such a sensible, even commendable practice? Who do you think I am? I am here to help, not to hector! I wouldn't stop with scallions and garlic, though. Add real herbs, like thyme and rosemary — the same things you would throw into the hot butter when you cook steak in a pan. A little anchovy wouldn't hurt either. (In fact, it could be your secret weapon.)

If he likes it, let him do it! Typically, Lawry's is better going on before the cook, though, like all those products: Mrs. Dash, Paul Pruhomme's Meat Magic, Montreal Steak Seasoning, and the rest of them. They're all good, in a shameful, trashy way, and you know what? If you really like them you ought to not only cook with them but sprinkling it at the end — that way you get two layers of Lawry's love, and what could be wrong with that? Besides everything, I mean.

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